


scorched

by ToyBoxOfSuz



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gladnis, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode Ignis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 21:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18978730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: A night on the stranded train when Ignis can't sleep due to his pain.





	scorched

The worst thing was the constant waiting. The lack of doing something. Just waiting, just… well, Ignis supposed this was to be the time to heal, to rest, to recalculate some things. But he couldn’t. He needed something to do, needed something to focus on instead of his own thoughts. His thoughts about his sacrifice, about the future, and if he would be able to support Noctis like this. With something important ripped from him. He wanted to. He didn’t want to give up, even if he knew it would set the others back. He lied to them to achieve that from them, he lied that his sight will return and his wounds would heal.

That lie also burned in his chest when he was lying awake at night in his bed on the train. He couldn’t tell where the others were, but he knew there were people in the cabin with him. Probably Prompto. The boy was fussing over him ever since he woke up in Altissia and it was nice and sweet, and Ignis was thankful for his help, yet, he felt it terribly frustrating too. Not because of Prompto, but because of his own state. Prompto just reminded him in every waking moment that he lost something and that he needs help.

Aside from Prompto, Ignis believed that Noctis was also in the cabin, probably on the bed across from his. He wanted to go to him, to comfort him after Gladio yelled at him, and yet he couldn’t. Not only because he knew Noctis needed the time to think, but because Ignis himself also needed to set things straight in himself. He needed to get his thoughts in order, his goals in order to go and talk to Noctis. Yet, Ignis felt the urge to just go to him and seek comfort, which he knew Noctis isn’t in a state to give. He wanted to just put his hand on his shoulder, to make sure that the voice he is hearing truly comes from Noctis and not from anyone else, that his act with the ring had some sort of success too it; that Noctis was still alive.

The wounds on his hand and arm hurt, but the one over his eye, on his face burned in a different way. They burned as if he still had the ring on, and as if he still had to listen to the Kings telling him that they will take something if he wanted to save his own king. What an arrogance, Ignis thought to himself bitterly deep into the night, when his pain wouldn’t let him sleep.

Tonight, it was getting worse. His body was shivering from the memories, from the scorching sensation that rendered him scared again; too scared. But not for himself, not for the future, but for Noctis. Not as a King, not as a Chosen One, but as his friend, as his brother. And now he couldn’t even ask him if he was fine.

Ignis sat up in bed when a particularly strong sensation of pain hit him again. He grit his teeth to bear with it until his limbs could finally move. He thought he heard someone take a sharp breath, as if they wanted to cry. Either Noctis or Prompto. But no one said a thing. Ignis had the suspicion they are awake, but he didn’t care, he had to get out of there. He had to go and… do something. Maybe get a drink in the dining wagon, take a walk, or just hit something. Anything to keep his mind occupied, anything to keep his hands and thoughts busy. Anything that would… just for a second free him from this hell.

Without even getting his glasses, he got to his feet and searched his way around to find the door, stumbling out of it. He was trying to do it as silently as he could, but the messing around was bad. Once he was outside and slid the door closed his whole body was trembling from frustration and shame for some reason. He needed a drink, so he turned toward the way he knew the dining wagon was and started walking with one hand on the wall where the sleeping cabins were. But he didn’t expect to bump into something, or rather someone.

“Excuse me,” Ignis muttered with a tight throat, hating how he left his cane behind, that’s how fast he wanted to get out of the cabin, out of his own nightmare, just to realize it won’t end.

“Iggy…” the person spoke and only then Ignis realized that it was Gladio. So he wasn’t with them in the cabin, just like Ignis suspected. And yes, this scent, this scent was Gladio’s too. Earthy, spiced with his aftershave and beer. The voice, too. It wasn’t entirely angry, not in the way he was yelling at Noctis, it was tense, yes, but from something else. Slightly in a way Ignis heard him when he was talking about losing his father that one night.

Ignis knew he should say something, anything. To assure Gladio it will be fine, that he is fine, and that they must go on. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t. His lips were sealed tight, trembling from the effort to keep something in, something that weren’t words. But it all went to the gutter when he suddenly felt Gladio’s arms around him, pulling him to the man’s body with the crushing force of His Majesty’s Shield, knocking all the air out of Ignis’ lungs. It was terrifying, that someone could take Ignis by surprise like this. But on the other hand, it felt like a push in a direction Ignis wanted to go, but didn’t dare to. When he took a breath, it was sobbed out the next moment. Rugged and heavy and desperate. His arms came up to cling to Gladio’s sides, burying his face into his shoulder in a desperate attempt to hide.

Gladio always knew what he was going through, somehow. Even when Ignis didn’t say it out loud, Gladio was the one who was paying attention. Sometimes it was a curse, but most of the time it was reassuring. That there was someone on Eos who would know Ignis. They grew up together, they served together, they worked for the same cause together; they shared a deep bond that was not ever to be severed. And even in a situation like this, Gladio knew what he needed; not what he wanted. Ignis wasn’t sure if that was a good thing in the past, and he still wasn’t sure now; all he knew he was too weak to let go of Gladio, too weak to stop the breakdown happening.

He was crying in a way he never before; his eyes hurt, burned from the tears, from the memories, from the pain of the Lucii ring and he hated it all. Ignis hated the ring, hated the Gods, hated everything that ever caused Noctis pain. Hated the Kings for doing this to him. Hating himself for not being strong enough.

“You were enough, Iggy,” Gladio spoke, his voice rough and deep resonating through Ignis’ chest. 

The worst thing was, if anyone else said that, Ignis wouldn’t have cared. But with Gladio, he believed it. Because Gladio wasn’t saying it to get something from him, Gladio was always honest with him, he trusted Gladio with his life. And if he said he was enough…

“I had no other way…” An apology. Was it? Ignis usually did things without apology, without caring about anyone’s opinion. Because he always knew what to do and how to do it, he wasn’t going to apologize for that. This time, however, he may have gone too far. But he had no other choice, there was no other way; Noctis had to be protected and Ignis was about to lose his battle. The ring was there as a last chance, a very last chance and Ignis took it. He would never apologize for taking that chance. But for not calculating the risk properly. He knew it will be hard, he knew it will take something from him, maybe his life too, but he didn’t expect this.

“I… I know,” Gladio said. He was trying so hard to understand Ignis and his actions and Ignis was the most thankful for it. “Let’s get you a drink,” the man added, cradling the back of Ignis’ head for a soothing moment. Ignis nodded. But they didn’t move. Gladio kept his hand at the back of Ignis’ head, his fingers entangled in his messy hair. And Ignis didn’t raise his head; he kept his forehead pressed against Gladio’s shoulder.

It took a moment.

Then a pull on Ignis’ his hair, just a light one, for him to lift his head, to meet Gladio’s lips in a kiss. And then Ignis realized. He wasn’t apologizing for taking his chance, for protecting Noctis, for messing up; he apologized for making Gladio worry. For making him think, even for one second, that he lost Ignis. Because he knew that if it was Gladio there, if it was Gladio almost giving his life on that altar he would have gone mad. Ignis gave a sound from the back of his throat, stuttering a breath, as if he wanted to say something. But Gladio didn’t let him. He kept kissing him, he kept his lips occupied with his, so Ignis didn’t have to say all those worthless words. His hand was so big against Ignis’ tear soaked cheeks, too warm and too reassuring.

Ignis closed his useless eyes, feeling them burn from something different than phantom pain, and to be honest he welcome it. A pain that was more real than the remaining punishment of the Kings long dead. Suddenly, he felt his back slammed against the wall with a loud noise, Gladio’s body pressing against his in a familiar and yet a terribly new sensation. Then, the silence that followed pierced Ignis’ ears like nothing before. His lips quivered against Gladio’s as he felt him moving his head away. He wanted to tell him not to look at him like this; when he was being weak and pathetic and  _ damaged _ . But he just couldn’t, because this was him now. This was what they got back.

“You’re the strongest person I know,” Gladio said in a low voice, similar to Ignis’ probably if he could muster up words. “But I won’t let them hurt you again,” he added in a whisper, leaning his forehead against Ignis’.

Ignis wished he could see Gladio’s face then. He wanted to read it. Because Gladio’s words were sometimes too short, too compressed and all these years Ignis learned to read from his eyes, from his face. He had to relearn things, he had to get to know these people again. The thought may have been exciting too, if they had time. But they had none.

“Stay with me for a few hours,” Ignis stuttered in the weakest voice. He knew it’s a risky thing to ask. To leave Noctis with Prompto, but the blonde has proved he is just as capable in protecting Noctis as them. It will be fine. And Ignis needed Gladio right now, he needed the distraction he would provide.

“Of course,” Gladio agreed quietly before Ignis felt his lips against his. This one time, he was glad Gladio didn’t argue with him further.


End file.
